Insidious Rain
by Issi
Summary: Some people believe that a person is not dead until the things they have caused to happen in this world are over. In this tangled web of humanity, if one thing had been different, one new strand woven in, would the final web have taken a different shape?
1. Do Not Fear The Reaper

'…_To see a world in a grain of sand,_

_And a heaven in a wild flower,_

_Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,_

_And eternity in an hour….'_

_- William Blake, Auguries of Innocence_

Her leg is throbbing where the animal's teeth tore into her flesh, but that pain is overshadowed by the fire racing through her veins, by the sound of her straining heart pumping frantically. She tries to move, tries to drag herself away from the beast that lies still beside her, the knife she'd been using to chop vegetables for dinner embedded in its ribs, but it's like trying to walk underwater – her movements are slow and uncoordinated, and the very air seems thick and unyielding. The rain falling through the unfinished section of the plate is cool on her skin, and strangely comforting, as if it might put out the fire raging within her. She whimpers, clawing at her skin.

The dog's eyes are glazed in death, but even now they still glow with that cold, emerald light that had unnerved her so as it approached her down the narrow, filthy alley. As darkness encroaches on her she screams against the unfairness of it all, shouting at her unresponsive body to _move_ dammit, because she _won't_ die in the rubbish here like some pitiful whore, tossed aside by a client with tastes beyond human morality. There's still too much to _do_…..

* * *

When she wakes, she is surrounded by cold white and chemical smells. Strong leather chafes her wrists, ankles and torso, and she is horrified to discover she is naked beneath the thin sheets. She thrashes, trying to escape, and slumps back, suddenly dizzy as the world rotates around her. Everything is too bright, too loud, too clear, and she feels like electricity is racing through her body, feels strong enough to do anything and yet so weak she can barely move.

'Please, be calm.'

The voice echoes around her head and she cringes away, yelping.

'Ah, sorry, I didn't think.'

The person – male, middle aged, and she isn't sure how she knows it – has lowered his voice, to almost a whisper. It's still too sharp and clear, but it doesn't send pain lancing through her head, so she grudgingly opens her eyes. Someone was thoughtful enough to dim the lights too, and she squints up at the blurry figure hovering over her. He's wearing a lab coat, a tie tucked into the front, and a clipboard in his hand.

'How are you feeling?'

'Where am I?' she croaks, wincing as her own voice comes out like a shout.

'You're in Shinra HQ, the SOLDIER medical wing to be precise.' the man tells her. 'My name is Doctor Zane. And you are?'

'Ren.' she manages to rasp. 'Ren Wolfe.'

'Good, they were right.' Dr Zane murmured, checking something on his clipboard. 'We found your ID on you, but we wanted to be sure. Your parent's will be worried about you; I'll send someone to tell them you're alright immediately. You live in Sector Six, right?'

'Yes. How…?'

'Considering what had happened, Shinra gave me permission to use their database.'

She tries to breath slowly, the way her uncle taught her, in through the nose and out through the mouth, but the mounting panic makes her lightheaded.

'What…what happened to me?' she whispers almost angrily, unable to raise her voice above a rasp. Her throat feels dry and rough, like the sandpaper Dad had been using to smooth the new banister for the stairs.

There's the sound of a chair scraping on hard floor, and a deep sigh as Doctor Zane sits beside her bed, offering her a plastic cup filled with water, a straw bent over the top of it. She sips gratefully and nearly chokes – she can _taste_ the water, feel it swilling across her tongue, is acutely aware of the metallic tang as it slides down her throat.

_What's happened to me?_

'What's the last thing you remember?' the doctor queries and his voice is somehow soothing now, human and normal.

'A…a dog.' she replies, her voice steadier. 'I was making dinner, talking to my Mum. There was a noise outside, and I thought it must be the stray that had been hanging around scavenging in the dustbins again. I went out into the back alley to scare it off, but…'

Her voice cracks, and she swallows, staring at the ceiling. 'It was the stray, but it was…different.'

Doctor Zane mutters something under his breath, makes a note on his clipboard, and looks at her gravely over his rectangular glasses. 'The beast had been badly infected with mako. Even now, we don't fully understand the effects mako poisoning can have on animals, but it does make them stronger, and wilder. However they don't last long.'

'It was sick…' Ren recalls, trying to focus long enough to recall those frantic, terrifying moments. 'It was reeling all over the place and foaming at the mouth. And its _eyes_…'

She shudders, an instinctive reaction that she is unable to control. Dr Zane pats her shoulder, and the touch feels too heavy, too hot. She cringes away.

The doctor flips through his notes and looks at her gravely. 'Miss Wolfe, I regret to have to inform you that you have suffered an overdose of mako. As you likely know, mako does not mix well with the female biology.'

Ren's eyes widen, memories of her high-school science class rushing back to her, back when she had been sure that if she worked hard enough she could do whatever she wanted.

'…_there's one big reason that there are no women in SOLDIER, and that is because of the way they react to mako. The average mako dose can kill a woman with minutes. However, strangely, an overdose of the stuff takes over a woman, and makes her completely dependent on the substance. Somehow the sheer amount of mako in her blood keeps her alive. Only one woman has survived mako poisoning before, but she died of complications a few months later. With the male SOLDIER, they need a booster every year or so, or else they go into withdrawal – not pretty, but except in extreme cases, they survive. A woman who had been exposed to mako and survived however, needs boosters at first every day, followed by every week, eventually they got it down to once a month. And if she goes into withdrawal, she will die…'_

* * *

The next few weeks are hell. Every day, a white gowned nurse injects the green poison into her system, and as much as she hates it, she can feel her body relaxing as it receives the drug it craves so. She hasn't looked in a mirror, but she knows her eyes, before a plain hazel, will have already acquired the inhuman glow of mako.

She's sick, the first few days, every time they give her the shot. Slowly she becomes used to the sensation of the viscous, crystalline solution flowing through her blood, until she no longer notices it. With the amount being pumped into her body she wonders morbidly, if she were to slice her vein open, whether the liquid flowing forth would be crimson, or the brilliant, viridian hue of poison.

Slowly, she becomes used to her new strength and heightened senses. Eventually, she stops breaking things every time she touches them, and is able to feed herself again with bending the cutlery, or accidently stabbing herself in the face with the fork so hard she bled.

If she hadn't felt so much like crying as the nurse cleaned the wound and dressed it, she would have laughed.

Her parents aren't allowed to see her, and for the first time in nearly ten years, since she was about eleven, she desperately wishes her mother was there to sit beside her on the bed and stroke her hair while she sleeps. But she's a grown woman now, and grown women don't need such things.

She hates feeling so uncertain, so alone. She has always been in control, always been calm and calculating, ever since she was a teenager, always known exactly what she wanted. Now she just wants to go home, go back to normal. She curses her over-analytical mind, as it informs her of her likelihood of survival against the mako – and her likelihood of survival as a worrying unknown in the middle of the Shinra labs.

Once they get her down to one booster every two weeks, she's allowed out the lab for the first time since she woke. One of the nurses brings her clothes – a plain black business skirt, pale blue shirt and black business jacket – and she dresses for the first time in something other than a thin hospital gown. The clothes feel rough against her skin, and she's aware of them in a way she's never felt before.

Doctor Zane takes her out, and they wait for the lift at the end of the corridor. When they step inside and the doors swoosh shut behind them, she jumps, spinning round, heightened senses flaring – and is completely distracted by the woman staring back at her.

She's lost a lot of weight in the labs – mako made it hard to keep anything down, and over time she'd lost her appetite. Before she'd been an average size young woman, average skin, dark blonde hair and plain hazel eyes, the most forgettable face on the street. Now the woman staring back at her is thin to the point of emaciation, pale and sickly. Her hair is still blonde, but it seems to have lightened several shades, and become dull and lifeless.

Her eyes – such eyes! – they are no longer the plain, warm hazel of her childhood, but glow a deep electric violet, lit from within by the glow of the mako. She can barely recognize the person in the mirror.

* * *

Before she realises it, a year has passed. Doctor Zane promises that with each day she lives, her chances of surviving increase – so long as she keeps up with her boosters. She's become used to administering them herself now, although she has to collect the vials from the lab each month – Shinra protocol.

She spends her twenty-second birthday alone in her modest flat. She never properly returned home after the incident, only once to collect her belongings. It wasn't right for a high ranking member of Shinra to live below the plate, and that was what she was fast becoming, like it or not.

Her uncle called by on her birthday, the only visitor she had. He brought her a gift, and a card from her parents – they'd sent her money, despite the fact she probably earns more now in a month than they do in three.

Her uncle had watched her move with the easy grace of SOLDIER, trapped in the body of twenty-two year old woman, and shook his head, sighing. He hadn't stayed long, but before he left he had asked her if this was what she truly wanted.

_I am dependant on Shinra to survive. I cannot decline the job they offer me, nor the promotions. To commit suicide, ordinary people have to go out of their way to injure or poison themselves. Me? All I have to do is quit my job. I'd be dead within a month. _

_Maybe it's cowardly of me. But even living this half life…is sweeter than death._

She tore the birthday card up and threw it in the trashcan, unable to stand the brightness of it against the stark, empty walls of her apartment.

It is not until many days later, on one of her rare days off, that she finds the brown paper package, kicked under the coffee table. Curious, she pulls it out, realizing as she undoes the string it was the gift her uncle had brought her.

Inside rest two perfectly crafted _tessen_, the war fans of the Wutain people. She could remember her uncle teaching her how to use them, promising that one day he would make her a pair of her own.

She cradles the fans gently, carefully flipping them open and closed as memories of her training filter back into her mind.

_Perhaps…even if this is not the path I wanted for myself…perhaps I should start trying harder._

That afternoon, she goes out into the city and buys new clothes – fitted skirts and plain blouses, well-cut jackets and black shoes with small heels.

* * *

The next day she rises at dawn, and trains with her fans on the roof of the apartment block. She showers and dries her hair carefully, brushing it through with the new products she had bought and clipping it up with a delicate tortoiseshell clip. The two tessen are slipped into a specially made harness so they rest in the small of her back, hidden by the cloth of her plain black jacket.

At work she is as calm and competent as always, but tries hard to be less distant as she files paperwork and sorts appointments for Professor Hojo. The man himself creeps her out, but she allows nothing through her professional façade. She's going to make her way to the top, no matter what.

* * *

Promotions come thick and fast. Soon she becomes known as the only person in Shinra HQ who knows exactly where everything is and who is using it – because she makes it her business to know. At her next check up, Doctor Zane comments on how much healthier she looks, and how much more alive. She smiles her professional smile, and thanks him for everything he's done for her.

There are rumors, of course, but she can learn to ignore them easily enough. Any woman who manages to work her way up through the ranks of a predominantly male company at any kind of speed is subject to such rumors, but they were born of jealousy, and came only from those who didn't matter to her.

It's a very normal day, when things change again. She knocks on the door to General Sephiroth's secretaries' office, and walks inside. Professor Hojo had requested a check up with the General, and wasn't about to take no for an answer. She knows that the General was just beyond the door on the other side of the room, so she keeps her voice calm and polite as she passes on the message.

She is turning to leave, when the door bursts open and four masked assailants lunge into the room. Instinct and mako-fast reactions take over, and she drops to the floor, rolling, the _tessen_ already in her hands – even as the first man draws his gun and shoots the screaming secretary clean between the eyes. Blood and bone sprays in fine mist across the desk and papers.

She spins the first tessen open, whirling in a crouch and knocking one man's feet from under him, not pausing in her turn and slicing the bladed fan across his neck, almost severing his head from his shoulders. It's fast and bloody, and there's no time to think, only do. She's aware that the door to the General's office has opened, and a shadow of black leather and silver hair is dancing in her peripheral vision, engaged in battle with two of the men, but her entire focus is on the fourth and final assailant, who is aiming for the General's unprotected back. His two opponents are dispatched with movements so quick even her mako-enhanced vision has trouble following, and he turns to protect himself, would have made it anyway – but her second fan has already left her hand before he completes his turn, and the fourth man makes a strange, gurgling noise as it embeds itself into his chest. She sinks the second one through his sleeve and into the wall for good measure, pinning him there.

She picks herself up from her crouch, and half-turns to check the secretary – but it's obvious from a glance there is no helping the woman.

The General is watching her with narrowed eyes, and she lifts her Shinra ID from where it hangs around her neck, offering it to him.

'Hojo's assistant.' he states flatly. She grimaces slightly.

'I prefer 'administration officer'.'

She counts the bodies mentally, just in case – four attackers, four bodies. Good. She crossed the room and removes her tessen from the limp body of the fourth, allowing him to slide down the wall and onto the floor. He leaves a smear of crimson behind him, and she grimaces again.

'Sorry sir. I'll clean that up. Tessen aren't the cleanest of weapons.'

He holds out a hand, and she hands one to him after the briefest hesitation. Without seeming disturbed by the gore covering the spikes, he examines the fan.

'Wutain? These are well made.'

'My uncle is a weapon crafter. He taught me how to use them.'

The door crashes open again, and a tall young man with spiky black hair, dressed in a SOLDIER uniform almost falls into the room, his violet eyes panicked.

'Seph! Are you…woah. Shit.'

His eyes take in the blood and bodies, in the middle of which stands his CO, without a speck on him, and a young woman who seems vaguely familiar, one of the similarly dressed assistants who wander the corridors and shout at him to do his reports.

'Well done Zackary.' Sephiroth says crisply. 'I believe the saying goes 'here comes the cavalry'?'

'Several minutes too late.' murmurs the young woman, who is examining a blood spattered fan with a distracted frown on her face. Some of her hair has escaped the very feminine clip holding it back, and her blouse is bloodstained. She seems strangely unbothered by this fact.

'What happened?' Zack asks, cautiously stepping further into the room, and grimacing as he steps in a pool of blood. 'Who are these guys?'

Sephiroth frowns, jerking his head in a very clear 'Shut up!'

Zack remembers suddenly Shinra protocol and the need-to-know basis they operate on constantly. 'Ah. Sorry. Are you hurt miss?'

The young woman glances up from her fan. 'Hmm? No, I'm fine sir.'

'You should go get checked out, just in case.' Sephiroth says firmly, handing back her second fan. 'And thank you.'

She nods, calmly professional, and leaves the room.

Doctor Zane pronounces her well, and tells her to go home and rest. She does as she's told, changing into some more comfortable clothes, and throwing her blood stained blouse in the bin. She can buy another one to replace it.

She sits on the edge of the bath for about an hour, carefully cleaning her fans with a damp cloth, rinsing the pinkish water away. That night, lying in bed, she considers the day's events and wonders at her reaction. The mako has done more than change her physically, and she's fast becoming scared of this detachment it causes inside of her.

She closes her eyes, and forced herself to remember the sound of her fan biting into the man's flesh, and the spray of blood across her face, and that memory gives way to another, of rain on her face and the smell of mako-tainted blood and rubbish, and the fear of death.

There's a raw tearing sound which echoes around her lonely apartment, and it is several moments before she realises it is her making it. She curls in a ball beneath the blankets and surrenders to the hysteria.


	2. A Bend In The Road

Zack grinned, watching unobtrusively from behind the filing cabinet. If he was not very much mistaken, Taylor was about to get the bollocking of a lifetime.

He watched as the SOLDIER approached the young secretary on duty, handing over a flimsy sheet of stained, barely legible paper. It looked like he'd scrawled it off in half an hour during his lunch break, and then used it to mop up spilt coffee.

The young woman - barely more than a girl - took it with that deer-in-the-headlights look that the vast majority of people always wore when confronted with a SOLDIER - particularly one armed with the good looks and charm Taylor wielded with devastating effect.

'_Slimy git_.' Zack thought affectionately. '_I taught him well_.'

The poor girl was completely out of her depth, blushing as Taylor leant on her desk casually and complemented the neat little clip holding her hair back from her face. Zack snorted, and then ducked further behind the filing cabinet as he spied the young blonde approaching rapidly, the rubber soles of her sensible black shoes squeaking slightly on the plastic tiles of the floor. She carried a stack of files in her arms, and Zack wondered exactly how long she spent ironing her blouse to get the creases that perfect. The cadets could have learned a thing or two. Or maybe the blouse just folded like that in submission the moment she glared at it.

'Is there a problem here?'

Taylor straightened, turning the full effect of gleaming white teeth on her. The blonde looked significantly unimpressed.

'Not at all.' Taylor assured her, winking at the girl behind the desk. 'Marie and I were just having a little chat, weren't we sweetheart?'

Poor Marie looked like she was wishing the floor would swallow her whole as she blushed and stammered, caught between Taylor's megawatt grin and her superior's equally megawatt stare.

'I see.' the blonde said slowly. She glanced sideways, apparently only just catching sight of Taylor's report - but Zack was not fooled. She was a passable actress, but not good enough to fool the master of lies, he thought triumphantly.

She picked up the report between forefinger and thumb, eyeing it with a look more suited to something distasteful caught on her shoe. Corporal, is this your mission report?'

Taylor looked at the paper as if considering it for the first time. 'Why yes, I believe it is.'

She wrinkled her nose, dropping the report through the shredder beside Marie's desk, and silently handing Taylor another form. 'The rules clearly state that all reports must be legible - or else we cannot commit a copy to the computer system. Besides, illegible reports are rather pointless from every point of view. Please redo it. I will expect it before the end of the work today - after all, the deadline was two days ago.'

Taylor gaped at her, grin completely gone.

'But...'

She glanced at the clock. 'I wouldn't waste time if I were you, Corporal. I expect a full, concise, and legible report on my desk by five o'clock. I suggest you hurry. If you have any questions, I'm sure Marie will be perfectly willing to help you. Good day Corporal.'

She turned on her heel and walked off through the cubicles, handing the stack of folders out to various reaching hands. Zack chortled silently behind the filing cabinet as Taylor slunk out with his metaphorical tail between his legs and the rows of admin staff returned to their jobs, day's entertainment over.

He dropped to his knees, about to crawl back out the fire escape - only to find himself nose to nose - or would that be nose to sole? - with a pair of flat, black shoes.

_Shit. Zack: 0 - Unknown scary woman: 1_

He looked up slowly, doing his best impression of a repentant puppy. The blonde secretary looked down at him with an inscrutable expression - although Zack could have sworn her lips were twitching slightly.

'Can I help you, Lieutenant?'

Zack rose slowly to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck innocently. 'Um, no...I'm fine thanks. Just uh...dropped my pen.'

'Well if I see it, I'll be sure to return it to you.' the secretary smiled pleasantly. 'If there's nothing else...?'

Zack fled. At the doors he paused, sticking his head back round. 'Excuse me!'

The secretary looked up from where she was speaking quietly to the still crimson Marie, a fondly exasperated expression on her face.

'Yes Lieutenant?'

'What's your name?'

A flicker of surprise crossed her face. 'Ren. Ren Wolfe.'

'Zack Fair.' Zack grinned disarmingly. 'Nice to meet you Miss Wolfe.'

He kept his pace to a nonchalant walk, whistling cheerfully as he strode towards the lift.

_Zack: 1...Ren Wolfe: 1_

When Ren arrived for work three days later, a cream, official looking envelope lay arranged precisely at right angles to her desk, exactly in the middle of it. There was an expectant hush over the cubicles, and Ren frowned, poking the letter gingerly.

She looked up and caught the kohl-ringed eyes of Gina, the department's fount of all information, sordid or not.

'All right, what's going on?' she asked, in her best 'Haven't-had-coffee-yet-so-don't-fuck-with-me- voice.'

Gina looked distinctly upset. 'I'm so sorry Ren.'

Ren sat gingerly on her chair, eyeing the envelope. Half the department seemed to be crammed into her cubicle, or hanging over the walls of the neighbouring ones.

'Why?' she queried.

'That envelope...that's what arrives every time the General needs a new secretary.'

At this, little Rose Thomson burst into tears and fled. Ren nodded at Regulus Damon, the young man with the slight stutter and painfully obvious crush on the girl, and he ran after her.

'Sorry.' Gina murmured. 'Lauren - the General's previous secretary - she was Rose's cousin. They grew up together.'

_Lauren Thomson. Age, twenty seven. Hair, brown. Eyes, hazel. Height, average. Weight, average. _

Ren's face became distant as she remembered the stunned look on Lauren's face as the bullet hit her between her large, hazel eyes.

'I see.' she said quietly. 'But I still don't understand all this fuss.'

Gina perched on the edge of her desk, careful not to even touch the envelope. She drummed lacquered nails nervously on the wood. Ren half expected her to cross her fingers, or make some other movement to ward off evil.

'It's like a death sentence, Ren.' she said in a hushed voice. 'The record was Karl Voderman. He survived almost a year.'

'Does the General skewer them on that giant toothpick in his office?' Ren asks, corner of her mouth twitching.

'Ren!' Gina scolded, horrified. 'No! It's the assassination attempts. They're almost regular, despite security's best efforts. The General's never even been scratched, but his secretary is almost always killed.'

'That's a shame.' Ren said absently, searching for a storage box to pack her things into. She was sure she'd seen it just the other day...

'Aren't you worried?' Gina asked, torn between fascination and horror.

Ren blinked at her. 'Not really.'

She picked up the envelope and uses her letter-opener to slice it open, reading the bureaucratic drivel inside with a resigned expression - it basically repeated the conversation she had just had.

'Huh. Looks like I get a pay rise.' she said, trying to lighten the mood a little. Gina stared at her as if she was insane.

'But...are you just going to go?' Marie whispered. 'Can't you fight it?'

'Marie, I don't have a reason to fight it.' Ren said gently.

_Besides_, she added silently, _even if I did have a reason, I still couldn't. I'm collared, and Shinra holds my leash.'_

'But there must be something!' Marie cried, almost in hysterics. 'Can't you resign? Find a different job somewhere.'

'Some people have done that successfully.' Gina urged. 'There's so many of us, Shinra treats us as throwaway.'

Ren stared distantly at the surface of her desk. 'That's not an option.'

Gina made a discrete gesture, and the other admin staff left, driven away by the force of her glare. She shifted closer, dropping her voice.

'Ren, whatever Shinra has over you, it's not worth throwing your life away.' she hissed fiercely. 'You're still so young, don't waste it!'

Ren screwed her eyes shut.

'Looks like I can't keep it secret any longer.' she said dully. 'I'm kind of amazed no-one noticed before actually.'

'What?'

'Gina.' Ren said, almost inaudibly. 'Look at my eyes.'

Gina frowned, shifting back. 'You're starting to freak me out Ren...'

Ren's head whipped up. 'I said look at my eyes!'

Gina froze, staring deep into twin pools of blue shading into amethyst - each iris glowing minutely at the centre. She began to shake.

'Y...You...'

Ren tore her eyes away, fixing them on the desk again. 'I'm due my next booster in two days - that's why the glow is faint. For a few hours after each booster, they glow even brighter than a SOLDIER's, but it fades very quickly. They go more purple too.'

'Mako poisoning...' Gina breathed.

'Yes.' Ren muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off the headache she could feel brewing. 'You must understand, Gina. I'm living on borrowed time. I shouldn't be alive now. I certainly never expected to reach my twenty second birthday and if I reach my twenty fifth it will be a miracle. As my body becomes more used to the monthly boosters, I will need higher and higher doses or I will go into fatal withdrawal. Eventually, the line between withdrawal and overdose will vanish and I will die of mako poisoning. It's not a pleasant death, and I don't intend to experience it. Dying in an assassination attack would answer my problems.'

Her voice was almost clinical, like she was reeling off facts she had heard far too many times.'

Gina stood shakily, looking like she had no idea what to say.

'Then...I wish you luck.' she said quietly. 'And Ren?'

Ren looked up. Gina met her eyes steadily, despite the fear that made her hands tremble. Suddenly the younger woman's distant attitude, obsessive orderliness and cryptic comments all made sense, and despite herself Gina felt more than a little sorry for the girl she had come to consider a friend.

'You probably won't believe me when I say this.' she whispered. 'But I won't tell anyone. I doubt you'll be able to hide this a lot longer - what you've told me has made a lot of things suddenly click together, and there are a lot of people a heck of a lot smarter than I am in this building. But I won't speed the process up.'

Despite herself, Ren felt her throat tighten. '...Thank you.'

Gina shifted awkwardly, making as if to leave.

'Gina?'

She paused. 'Yes?'

Ren was looking at the envelope again, her neat business clothes suddenly making her look small and frail. 'Look after Marie.'

Gina nodded quietly. 'Of course.'

She left. Half an hour later Ren had packed all of her personal effects into a box and cleared her desk. She considered her fountain pen - she'd seen Marie admiring it earlier, and it wouldn't be hard to buy herself a new one. She set it down on top of a sheet of paper and wrote _'Marie - for luck. Ren'_ underneath it.

She waited until everyone had left for the day, sitting immobile in her chair. The sun was setting by the time the door banged behind the very last person, filling the department with filtered golden light, streaming through the too-narrow windows that needed three people to open them.

Ren pushed her chair back suddenly, a little harshly, and left without looking back, box under her arm,

She eased open the door to the outer office, and pushed her box under the desk out of the way. The sound of voices in the General's office made her hesitate, and she pulled the transfer letter from her pocket, smoothing it out unnecessarily and knocking twice.

'Enter.'

Ren opened the door.

'Sorry to interrupt sir.' she said respectfully. 'My name is Ren Wolfe - I'll be your secretary starting from tomorrow.'

The General frowned. 'Haven't I met you before?'

'Yes sir. I was here when your last secretary was killed.'

His expression cleared. 'Yes, I remember.'

He held out a hand. 'Your papers?'

Ren gave him the letter. 'This is all I received.'

'Yes, these are all in order.' the General murmured. 'Then I will see you tomorrow Miss Wolfe.'

Ren nodded politely and left, closing the door softly behind her. Sephiroth glared at the man reclining on the couch under the window.

'Zackary, why do I have this strange feeling you are somehow involved in this?' he asked sourly.

Zack winced. 'I hate it when you use my full name. How did you even find that out anyway? I never use it, even on paperwork.'

'You told me one night when you were...inebriated.' Sephiroth replied dryly. 'And don't change the subject.'

'Damn, I did? I need to stop drinking around you. Alright, I admit it. I recommended her to Heidegger. He doesn't exactly have a very rigorous selection process - I think he just points at the first poor sod to cross his path.'

'But why her?' Sephiroth persisted doggedly. 'It's unlike you to put someone directly in the firing line.'

'Because she can take care of herself.' Zack said seriously. 'She killed two of those goons last time. Have you seen her profile? She's perfect for the job.'

He twiddled his thumbs, adding more softly. 'And because I'm sick of seeing you writing bereavement letters to the families of each new throwaway every couple of months.'

Sephiroth typed Ren's full name into his computer, using his clearance code to bypass several security protocols that popped up. Zack came round the desk to view it over his shoulder.

'Your concern is unnecessary.' Sephiroth told him quietly, green eyes fixed on the screen.

'Like hell it is.' Zack replied just as quietly. 'Someone's got to worry about you boss - specially seeing as you don't. Take care of yourself, I mean.'

Sephiroth was apparently absorbed in the facts scrolling past on his screen, but Zack felt the muscles in his shoulder relax slightly under his hand. He smiled a little to himself. Getting Sephiroth close to halfway normal was hard work - he wasn't going to even think about fully normal until after at least six strong beers - but it was worth it.

'This is...unusual.' Sephiroth murmured. 'Mako poisoning? It's amazing she isn't dead.'

'This one's a fighter, boss. Not only that, but she's strong and fast - enhanced. Not as strong as a SOLDIER, but enough to give her an advantage. You saw her with those freaky fan things. And she's got a good work record.'

Sephiroth didn't reply. Zack grinned gleefully, resisting the urge to tousle the General's hair. He was cheerful, not insane. 'Come on, say it. Say I was right.'

'I don't believe I ever insinuated otherwise.' Sephiroth said blandly.

'Damn! You look so much like a cat when you do that! All bristle and wounded pride.' Zack laughed, falling back onto the couch.

'Zackary?'

'Yes?'

'Get out of my office.'


	3. Interlude Part One

All in all, Zack quite likes this new secretary.

She's not so much of a pushover as some of the assassin-fodder Heidegger shoved behind the desk in previous years. She's competent, and after seeing her pull that freaky throwing fan out of a man's windpipe and look cross over a tiny nick on the supports, he doubts he needs to worry about seeing the look of stress and guilt on Seph's face as he writes yet another apologetic bereavement letter for some time yet. It makes sense, when he thinks about it, for her to have this position, and he respects her professionalism.

But the real reason he likes her, is because of the way she treats Sephiroth.

She's respectful round him, of course, and reserved - Zack's the only person brave enough (or stupid enough, depending on your point of view) to be quite so irreverent, and even he knows when to stop pushing. But there's no fear in her eyes when she speaks to him, just polite respect. She doesn't look at him like a monster or a legend - some days Zack's not sure of the difference when it comes to people's perceptions of Sephiroth.

And the clincher? He's fairly sure he's found an ally in the fight to show Sephiroth how to live.

Ren Wolfe, he has discovered, has a liking for honey.

So he leans casually across her desk - and gives her credit that she doesn't bat an eyelid, but maybe she's just used to him by now - and flirts cheerfully as he slide the little jar full of golden syrup into a drawer, all the while informing her gravely of an urgent, top-secret problem that needs the General's attention for the whole day. And Ren looks equally grave as she agrees that it's obviously very important for them to send First Lieutenant Zack Fair to explain and with a few taps of her keys she clears the General's schedule for the day.

And when Zack manages to manhandle Sephiroth out the office without actually laying a finger on him - because he's stupid, not suicidal - she smiles politely, and Zack could have sworn he once heard her murmur 'Have fun.' as the door shut behind them.

So yeah. All in all, he quite likes this new secretary.


	4. Interlude Part Two

The sad thing is, she doesn't even like honey all that much.

And if this keeps up, she's going to have to empty another cupboard in her kitchen at home in order to contain the invasion of little glass jars that keep appearing in her desk drawer.

But she does find the doggedly cheerful way Lieutenant Fair persists in trying to give the General some taste of a normal life strangely touching - and she also finds it's a lot harder to be scared of the General when you've seen him looking vaguely bemused and a little exasperated as Fair bundles him away with grim proclamations about a moogle invasion. And the slightly different version of bemused (a little tired, a little unsure, but content) that the General wears when he returns to the office - often clutching some plush toy out in front of him between thumb and forefinger as if it's about to explode - is an expression she would like to see much more often.

So she smiles as the Lieutenant slides yet another jar of that bloody syrup into her desk drawer and bats his eyes at her, and she clears the General's schedule for the day no matter what's on it, and watches a little fondly as the two men leave.

And then she sets about fielding calls from angry bureaucrats who want to know where the hell the General is - but the resulting headache is worth it, just for the look on the General's face when he returns.


	5. Interlude Part Three

He's not really sure what to make of the new girl in the outer office – and he's especially not sure what to make of her and Zack's apparent allegiance.

She's competent, that's for sure, and she does her job with an air of calm professionalism Sephiroth finds rather reassuring. But behind the professional facade, there seems to be a great deal more - for someone like the mask Ren Wolfe presents on the surface would never sink to conspiring with Zackary Fair.

What really worries him is that fact that they don't seem to communicate on anything vaguely resembling a normal level. Zack comes up with the most spurious excuses, and before Sephiroth knows it he's being chivvied out of his office as Ren smiles goodbye from behind her desk, and he just knows a whole conversation has flown past his head in a matter of seconds, without a single word being spoken.

The idea of his secretary and Zackary Fair communicating on the same level is more than a little disconcerting.

But he appreciates that the girl - woman, really - doesn't look at him with the same wide-eyed look Lauren gave him every time he spoke. Instead she listens intently, gives her input if asks, and is blunt without being impolite. She deals with the things which he doesn't need to, and the amount of paperwork that urgently has-to-have-his-signature-or-the-world-was-going-to-end seems to have been cut by half. She's tidy and organised, and seems to have an almost eclectic memory, and he finds himself falling into an easy, quiet routine, with occasional bursts of disturbance as Zack crashes through his door every couple of days.

So when, a month or so after she started working for him, Ren is absent for the morning due to her mako booster, he's a little surprised by how her absence makes things feel unbalanced. But remembering how he feels after his yearly injection, he leaves a mug of the special herbal tea Zack had found a few years previously on her desk, and if she's pale and a little shaky when she returns, he doesn't say anything.

And when he returns from his own annual booster a few months later to find Zack ensconced on the sofa with a cup clutched between shaking hands, and another waiting on his desk while Ren taps quietly away on her computer, Sephiroth thinks he would quite like to keep this secretary.

* * *

Well, this is all I got done while I was away on holiday XD. I hope everyone's still in character, and Ren hasn't morphed into her evil Mary-Sue twin yet. I've got parts of the next couple of chapters, and then ideas for Cloud's arrival, but summers almost over and school coming up, and I have done none of my summer homework ^^.

I'm dead. Soooo dead.

- Yaku


	6. Nothing Invincible Part 1

Zack crossed the lobby to the elevator, rolling his head and cracking his neck from side to side. The receptionist on duty barely concealed her wince, and Zack shot her a grin as he stepped into the elevator and hit the button for Sephiroth's floor.

He was feeling pretty good about the latest batch of recruits who were beginning to trickle in for the new academic year. While most of them would certainly go on to be more Shinra grunts in the regular corps, he had already seen a couple who looked promising – not to mention one guy who'd picked six of his co-recruits pockets before being caught by an amused and slightly speculative Reno. No doubt he'd be snapped up by the Turks fairly quickly.

Zack grimaced. As much as he'd come to appreciate Reno's friendship, he still found the Turks methods distasteful, and he was well aware there was a lot he didn't know even now he'd reached First Class clearance.

He approached the office door on tip-toe, lifting his hand to the doorhandle with agonizing slowness.

'Break that door and you'll be fixing it.' an even voice warned him from inside.

Zack laughed easily, shouldering the door open and kicking it shut behind him. 'Damn, you're getting better.'

'You're not even trying.' Ren responded absently, busy flicking through a thick sheaf of paperwork. She frowned, making a note in the margin with her ever-present red pen.

Zack grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Well if I try too hard Seph thinks that I'm a real intruder and comes after me with that giant toothpick.'

The corner of Ren's mouth curled upwards in a barely contained smile, her eyes still fixed on her paperwork. 'I can understand your dilemma. Did you need something?'

The '…_or are you just coming to pester the General again_?' was left unsaid but clearly heard.

'Hey, I have a legitimate reason for being here!' Zack protested, laughing.

Ren finally looked up at him, flicking her fringe out of her eyes. The glow was stronger and more violet, Zack noted – not enough for most people to notice, but clear enough for someone familiar with SOLDIER and mako to see. She must have taken her booster recently.

'That's what you said last time – and then explained we were being invaded by stuffed moogles for the third time this month.' she pointed out dryly. 'And you haven't explained yet _how_ a toy plushie can invade.'

'Are you kidding?' Zack grinned, enjoying the banter. 'Have you not seen the new recruits? I'm telling you, they'll all be bringing their teddy-bears with them – there's a stuffed moogle invasion at this time every year.'

Ren's lips twitched, obviously struggling to contain a laugh.

The door opened again, and Sephiroth entered, looking between Zack and Ren warily. Zack grinned manically, and the General sighed.

'Moogles again?'

'He's denying everything.' Ren reported, sliding her chair back and picking up a slim pile of papers. She came round the desk and handed them to Sephiroth, smacking the back of Zack's head as he attempted to perch on her desk.

'These need your attention. The one on top is urgent.'

Sephiroth took the papers with a resigned expression. 'Thank you. Why are you here Zack?'

'You two are really suspicious, do you know that?' Zack complained, giving up on sitting on the desk and sinking to the floor in front of it instead, leaning against the modesty panel. Ren folded her arms, slapping the back of his hand as he reached out idly to poke the tessen hanging from the back of her chair.

'I wonder why?' she asked rhetorically, taking her seat again. Zack craned his head over his shoulder to grin at her and she glowered at him, the slight softening round her eyes the only indication that she didn't actually want to disembowel him - yet.

'I really do have a reason for coming up this time.' he protested innocently. 'But you weren't here, and Ren's funny when she's ruffled.'

Ren sputtered, bringing a sheaf of papers down on his head.

'See?' Zack grinned, batting them away. His hair sprang back into its usual gravity defying spikes.

'So you came up for a reason and got distracted by my secretary?' Sephiroth asked, and then paused.

'….I cannot believe I just had to construct that sentence.'

Ren rubbed her temples in an attempt to fight off an impending headache. 'I don't get paid nearly enough. Lieutenant, please, _why_ are you here?'

'I wanted to talk to you about the new cadets.' Zack explained, looking up at Sephiroth. 'I know they're not all here yet, but I've seen a couple that I'd like to put primary tags on their files. Not to mention one slippery bastard that Reno's already eyeing up for Tseng.'

'Precocious.' murmured Ren, answering the telephone which sat on her desk. 'Wolfe speaking.'

She listened to the person on the other end; her eyes falling on Zack. 'Why yes, he is here. Would you like me to put him on?'

She covered the mouthpiece with her hand, looking down at Zack with pursed lips. 'Tell me lieutenant, have you perhaps forgotten somewhere you're meant to be?'

Zack looked at her, uncomprehending for a long moment.

'Aren't you supposed to assist with the Third Class training on Thursdays?' Sephiroth prompted absently, scribbling his signature on a form and passing it to Ren.

'…Shit!' Zack exclaimed. 'Alright, I'm going. I'll come back after class, will you be here?'

Sephiroth glanced at Ren, and she checked the schedule on her computer. 'You're free all afternoon sir.'

'See you then!' Zack called over his shoulder, exiting the office with some haste. Ren shook her head, lifting the phone back to her ear.

'Captain Benson? He's on his way now. Yes sir. No problem. Goodbye.'

She hung up, shaking her head. Sephiroth closed the outer door, heading for his private office, and for a while there was peace.

A good couple of hours later Ren was disturbed by the sound of her stomach growling. She got up from her desk, picking up her harness and swinging it over her shoulders, fastening the loops across her chest and then pulling on her jacket and knocking on the General's door.

'Enter.'

She pushed it open, standing in the doorway. 'I have some errands to run – shall I pick up lunch while I'm gone?'

Sephiroth glanced at the clock. 'That time already? Yes, that's probably a good idea. Zack should be here soon – you might want to bring extra.'

Ren snorted softly, picking up some of his finished papers. 'Yes sir. I'll be back in half an hour or so.'

She left the office and delivered various interdepartmental missives before heading to the SOLDIER mess and arranging for three lunches to be sent to the General's office. It was almost half one before she returned, but the office was still quiet – so Zack had definitely not arrived yet.

Ren pulled off her jacket and returned to her work, immersing herself in the endless routine of triplicate forms, and wondering how long it had taken for whoever came up with the idea in the first place to be shot by irate office workers.

A muffled noise caught her attention and she frowned, lifting her head. It didn't come again and she shrugged, ignoring it and returning to her work. Lunch arrived a few minutes later and she knocked on the General's door, frowning when she received no reply. He couldn't have gone out – he always left a note on her desk if he had to leave, giving at least a rough idea of when he'd be back.

She knocked again, and then a third time, worry mounting. One hand loosened the _tessen_ in their sheaths; while the other cracked the door open slowly.

Silver spilled across the carpet and the lunch she was carrying hit the floor, dropping to her knees beside the General's fallen figure. He lay awkwardly, half hidden by the desk, the sweep of his long hair hiding his face.

Ren spoke first, not daring to touch him for fear of startling battle-honed reflexes. 'General! Can you hear me?'

There was no response, and she finally dared to reach out and turn him over, possibilities running through her mind. Sephiroth's eyes were fast shut, his face smooth and breathing even, a steady pulse thrumming in his neck.

Ren's hand brushed something hard embedded in his jugular vein and she froze, sliding it gently free of his skin. The hollow dart – razor sharp, tough as steel and empty – lay in her hand like an accusation, even as mako-sharp eyes found the tiny, perfectly circular hole in the supposedly non-breakable glass.

In the space of a few seconds Ren's mind flew into overdrive, her body reacting without conscious thought as the clues added up.

_Someone has incapacitated the General_

_He's sedated, not dead._

_If they sedated him, that means they want him alive._

_It's been at least five minutes since I heard the dart._

_There is someone in the outer office!_

The door opened, and the first terrorist met the deadly razor-blade of a tessen wielded by an irate mako-fast secretary, who _wasn't supposed to be here._ He died quickly, the little of his face that could be seen below the Shinra issue helmet fixed in surprise.

Ren whirled, her second fan snapping into her hand and spinning open as she sprang at the second, third, fourth attackers, instinct and battle-rage taking over – but there was only one of her, and at least six of them.

Something solid impacted her temple and bright lights burst behind her eyes. She staggered, dropping to one knee, and the sixth attacker – the one who had held back – drove his fingers into _that_ _spot_ on her spine. Ren dropped like a stone, tessen falling from suddenly limp fingers, vision blurring. Someone kicked her in the ribs and she rolled limply, paralysed.

The blackness swallowed her up, even as she clung to the sight of silver and green.


End file.
